Triumph
by TonightThisNight
Summary: I'm too tired to go to sleep, tonight. Defeat and triumph have never been so entangled. An Uchiha forever rests. Winter is a killer when the sun goes down. Spoilers to Chapter 393. Sasunaru friendship, can be taken as more. Mixed ending. I cried.


-Spoilers for the most recent chapters-

I do not own anything from Naruto.

………………………

Blood was caked on his lithe form and dripped lazily down as blood, related to that_on _him, pumped through him, keeping him living as his will to died off. A hand, so worn and calloused, moved upwards while defying the urge just to fall down as muscles complained loudly and touched a forehead.

If he was a a ninja, fingers would meet with a pattern engraved in metal but instead they met with stale blood stuck in a permanent downfall. Eyes, black holes that normally devoured everything around him in analysis stared forth, so wide that moisture dribbled out in the form of tears. Tears, lacking emotion.

Just like he was.

Itachi was _dead_. Gone. Not from a sword to the heart or a kunai slash to the throat. Nor from Chidori through the lung, Sasuke winced at that thought before diverting his attention, or from any other jutsu of his.

He died from pushing himself to the limit to defeat his brother. He just tried to hard. Sasuke slowly realized that he too was trying too hard, as a brother just trying to defeat his brother. His chakra system pumped nothing and Orochimaru's soul was dead within his own. Dead. Everyone was dead. His clan, his mentor, and now his brother. Thanks to his betrayal, he was dead to Konoha.

Despite that label, _missing nin_, he was far from dead inside. Emotion suddenly ravaged his insides as wounds did his body as he realized he was tainted. Those fingers that touched the stale blood as if it was a precious antique, which it may be for he could imagine someone auctioning off the cursed blood of the Uchiha – carriers of the fearful sharingan because it was rare and production of it was stopped, scraped downwards chipping off dull red. This blood was tainted. This blood that caked on his lithe form and dripped lazily down as blood, related to that _on _him, pumped through him, keeping him living as his will to died off. He was _tainted. _The memory of him would be tainted with stories of betrayal, cursed family and bloodline, and his relentless effort to keep everyone at arms distance.

Sharingan activated, despite chakra being gone, and the scene before him became cauterized into memory. A wound burned to heal in an imperfect manner. This memory would only be tainted with emotion but never with imperfections and the inability to recall. He'd remember, forever, just because

no one else would want to remember. Perhaps one day he'd look upon it fondly, comparing the poke on his forehead to that he received as a blissfully ignorant child and he'd smile. He'd be the only one because Konoha and Akatsuki would look at it as a pathetic attempt to make sense of a life that never would.

Legs wobbled as they started to walk away. In the end, this was not an event where his cheeks would flush with pride because they flushed with shame, nor would it be one where tears flowed with happiness, they were there to keep them from drying out (part of him felt like they should, Sharingan with them), and Itachi was not dead from a staggering blow. He was dead from trying too hard.

Just like he did.

He soon found Hebi. Kisame was skewered on Zabuza's sword like a dango but Juugo was on the ground dead, Sasuke's thoughts did not linger on how despite that the curse was still activated, Karin was lying pitifully on her side but still barely alive, and Suigetsu was quickly fading despite his haughty smirk. Sasuke realized he could settle with this ending. Being with those loyal to him just for personal gain as he was to everyone he knew. Those who lived just for themselves.

Kami spited him for Konoha anbu flooded in, lead by an idiot in vibrant orange. Medic nins came forward, hands prepared to glow a green which would burn into his drying and tired eyes. Naruto came forth, muttering to an anbu to check up on Kakashi who, according to Naruto, was fighting a ninja named Obito though he claimed at times to be Tobi and others to Madara. Naruto continued after that and as Sasuke fell to his knees, caught him in an embrace colored in orange, black, white, and a milky attempt at tan. "_You're coming back to Konoha,"_ muttered a smooth baritone, not full of fluorescent cheer that would shatter his eardrums.

He would go back to Konoha. Where he was viewed as dead by most. So he could die inside and finally die – for real.

Just like Itachi did.

Naruto felt Sasuke's form sag against him and looked down. He was shocked to see a small smile spread on the face, a splotch of chipped blood on his forehead. He only hoped he could make that smile stay for many years, with him. Sasuke was _alive_, and with him. A smile claimed his face as well. Two shinobi were triumphant that day.

_The End_

Sort of happy ending? I'm sorry for not updating on my ongoing fanfiction but the inspiration hasn't been there. I've been going through a lot of tough shit, like admitting to myself that I might have a serious problem. Clinical depression is not a joke.

I just read Chapter 393 and actually was happy to see the poke on the forehead. I came to write this fanfiction with more intent to focus on that, I was going to go into how the forehead was tainted by his touch, the mind behind that was tainted, adn therefore he was tainted and that'd be followed by a bout of hysteria but I decided against this.The title came at least minute. Does it seem liek I've grown as a writer?


End file.
